Dear John
by Celtic Knot
Summary: Major Sheppard reveals an episode of his life he would rather forget. Oneshot.


**Dear John**

Lieutenant Aiden Ford decided to take the scenic route back to his quarters at the end of his duty shift, and was quite surprised to find Major John Sheppard standing on a balcony gazing up at the night sky. Starlight danced on the major's face, reflected in what looked like a single tear. "Are you all right, sir?" Ford asked quietly.

Sheppard spun around, startled, and quickly swiped at his cheek. "I'm fine, Ford. Why?"

Okay. Two could play at that game. "Well, you've seemed a little off today, and you were just staring in the general direction of home."

Sheppard turned away again. "If you're asking if I'm homesick, no, not really."

Ford leaned on the railing beside him. "Did you leave any family at home?"

"My older sister and her two kids."

"No, I mean, are you married?"

Sheppard stiffened, and Ford knew he'd hit a nerve. The major's strangled "No" indicated that he'd have crossed a line that perhaps he shouldn't have.

"I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to–"

The major dismissed Ford's apology with a wave of his hand. "Don't worry about it. It's nothing, really."

Denial. That was a very bad sign. Now seriously concerned, Ford asked, "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"We're off duty. And you can drop the 'sir'. Aiden," he added pointedly.

"Then you won't mind my asking, what in God's name is wrong, John?"

"It's a long story."

"I have all night."

Sheppard took a deep breath, then shook his head. "You're just a kid. You've got your whole life ahead of you; you don't need to waste your time hearing about my problems."

Ford straightened. "With all due respect, sir – John," he corrected himself at Sheppard's raised eyebrow, "you've only got,what, ten years on me? I don't need a father so much as you need a friend right now. Talk to me."

With a deep sigh, Sheppard turned and rested his elbows on the railing, now behind him. "A year ago today was supposed to be my wedding day."

Ford winced sympathetically; this was going to be bad.

"I met Mari Crichton when we were seniors in high school, and we started seriously dating that summer. We kept in constant touch when I went to the Air Force Academy and she worked on a music education degree, and got together as often as possible. By then, I was madly in love with her, but it wasn't until just over two years ago that I worked up the nerve to propose to her."

"And she said no?"

"Actually, she was ecstatic. We set a date that very day, and she talked about nothing but the wedding for weeks." He tilted his head back to stare at the stars once again. "Then I got shipped out to Afghanistan, where I disobeyed orders to save the lives of two men. I got court-martialed and sent to Antarctica, but I managed to get some leave time to get married. When I got home, Mari didn't seem nearly as happy to see me as I thought she would, but I just chalked that up to my own ego and didn't give it a second thought. I was going to marry her, and I couldn't have been happier." Sheppard closed his eyes, as if by doing so he could block out the pain of the memory. "On our wedding day, I was surprised to find out I was the first one to arrive at the church. That's when I found the note tied to the railing on the steps."

"Oh, no"

"Oh, yes. I can still remember word for word what she wrote. She started with, 'Isn't this funny – a Dear John letter that actually begins with "Dear John".' Yeah. Real funny. She said she'd canceled the wedding; she'd decided at the last minute she couldn't go through with it. She couldn't deal with being married to a soldier, not knowing when, or if, I'd come home."

"She decided that _the day of?"_ Ford exclaimed incredulously.

Sheppard nodded. "Never mind that I'd explained to her many times what was required of me, and that Antarctica is not a war zone. The note ended with, 'But just because I don't want to marry you doesn't mean I don't love you.' That might have been almost comforting if it wasn't for the 'Dear John' comment at the beginning. I couldn't believe she could be so so"

"Callous?" Ford supplied.

"Exactly. Callous. 'Airheaded' would work, too." He sighed. "Problem is, I still love her. I think – and this stays between you and me – I'm beginning to have feelings for Elizabeth, but whenever I start to think of her that way, I can't look at her without seeing Mari. I can't stop thinking about her, and it's driving me nuts."

Ford didn't know what to say.

Sheppard pushed off the railing with a weary groan. "Well, it's really late; I'm going to bed. Good night, Ford."

"Good night, Major." Ford watched Sheppard leave, then turned to gaze up at the night sky. The lieutenant racked his brain for some way to help his CO and friend, but came up empty. He wished he could talk to his father.


End file.
